


See You On A Dark Night

by thesleepingsatellite



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, False Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-23 23:43:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8347414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesleepingsatellite/pseuds/thesleepingsatellite
Summary: Late one evening, Karen encounters a strange woman who is looking for information about Matt.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DoreyG](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoreyG/gifts).



> Set between episodes 02x03 and 02x04 (for the most part).

A knock sounds at the door.

Karen looks up from the detritus of the Punisher case file strewn across her desk, to where a dark shape shifts on the other side of the office's glass door. It is 10pm, well past normal office hours, and she is the only one in their office. She may well be the only person in the quiet office building. For a moment, she considers ignoring the caller, but she reminds herself why she chose to stay with Nelson & Murdock: to help those who cannot help themselves. People in dire straits do not always call at regular hours.

Criminals don't keep regular hours either, so she grabs her mace from her handbag before approaching door. She holds it at ready, aimed at the glass pane, her fingers hovering over the door knob.

"Hello?" she calls, wincing at how timorous her voice sounds.

"Hello," a low, accented voice speaks from the other side of the glass. "I’m looking for Matthew?"

At the mention of the familiar name Karen lowers the mace and unlocks the door, opening it a few inches to see that her caller is a short, dark-haired woman. A smile tugs at the corners of the woman's mouth as she looks up at Karen.

"He’s not here right now," Karen says, propping the door on her hip. The woman cocks her head and runs her eyes up Karen's frame. Karen resists the urge to squirm under her scrutiny. "Can I help you?"

"Yes," the woman says, a wide, self-assured grin spreading over her face. She pushes past Karen into the office, and Karen jumps back involuntarily. Karen's mouth drops open - because, _how rude_ \- and she turns to face her visitor, who continues, "Matthew is a difficult man to get a hold of."

The woman smiles sweetly at her, and looks up at Karen through her lashes, and Karen finds it difficult to be angry at her. Instead she snorts, because really, isn't getting ahold of Matt one of the main challenges in her life these days?

"You’re telling me," she replies, watching as the woman takes a seat on the sofa. "Now, who are you?"

"Nicole," the woman responds. She extends an elegant hand without rising from the sofa, and Karen has to walk over to where she’s sitting to shake it. Nicole's grip is strong and the calluses Karen feels on her hands are at odds with her elegant black attire.

"Karen Page", she responds.

Nicole tilts her head to the side, her liquid black gaze pinning Karen to the spot. Karen feels as though she's being sized up by a svelte and dangerous cat. "Are you one of the lawyers of Nelson and Murdock?"

Karen shakes her head and pushes her hair back off her face. "No. I’m the paralegal, well, the office manager. So how do you know Matt?"

A slow grin spreads across Nicole’s face. "We’re old friends. I knew him in college."

"Oh yeah?" Karen says. She moves to sit in the chair beside the sofa and learns forward. "Well then, you must have known Foggy, too."

"Yeah," Nicole says with a flip of her hair. "I met him once. I doubt he’d remember me."

Karen bites her lip. "You know, I can’t remember anyone forgetting you," she says, her voice dipping lower than she intended. She realizes how she must sound and flushes when Nicole mirrors her, biting her low lip and leaning forward.

Flirting with women, especially women she’s just met, isn’t something that Karen does. She hadn't meant to be flirtatious, but Nicole definitely had interpreted her words as flirting, and is responding in kind. Karen isn't used to romantic attention from women, especially exquisite women, like Nicole. She is intriguing. Her insouciant body language and her keen, dark eyes, make Karen feel disarmed and off-center.

"Mmm, you’d be surprised," Nicole replies. "Sometimes I make a point of being forgettable. But, you'll remember to tell Matthew I dropped by, right?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Good. I was hoping to catch up with him. We lost touch so long ago, but his practice is easy enough to find, so I figured I’d come here."

"Well, you’re in the right place, just not the right time," Karen says, clasping her hands together in her lap to stop herself from fidgeting. "He went home a few hours ago."

Nicole leans forward, moving closer to Karen so that Karen can smell her perfume. "Maybe you can tell me where he lives?" 

Karen looks at her lap and pushes a lock of hair behind her ear. "I’m afraid I can’t," she says, her voice and smile contrite. "But if you want, you can leave your number and I’ll pass it on."

"Sure, I guess that'll do." Nicole replies. "Let me write it down for you."

Karen grabs a pen and post-it pad from a nearby desk, and waits while Nicole writes her name and number on the paper in an elegant, flowing script.

"Thanks," Nicole says, leaving the paper on the coffee table. "Listen, I mostly dropped by as kind of a social call. I’m new to the city and don’t know a lot of people here yet. Do you want to go and get a drink or something?"

Karen pauses, considering the offer. To say Karen has trust issues is an understatement, but when Nicole looks up at her with a playful smile tugging at the corner of her lips, Karen finds herself nodding in agreement. All work and no play makes Karen a stressed out girl, and Karen thinks that perhaps she needs a break. Besides, if the looks Nicole was throwing her way were any indication, hanging out with her would be a great deal of fun.

"Sure," she replies. "Let me grab my coat."

Karen doesn’t take her to Josie’s. She can’t. Josie’s belongs to Matt, Foggy and Karen, and to take an outsider there seems like sacrilege. Not that she thinks Nicole would appreciate Josie’s charm. Dressed in elegant, tailored black, she doesn’t seem like a Josie’s kind of girl.

"I know a wine bar a few blocks from here," Karen says, wrapping her hand around the strap of her shoulder bag. "Do you want to go there?"

"Sure," Nicole smiles, tilting her head. "If you say it’s good, I’m all in. I’m always looking for recommendations from the locals when I arrive some place new."

Karen shakes her head. "I’m not exactly a local," she says. "I’m from Vermont."

"Nobody’s really from New York, anyway," Nicole says, turning her head to look at Karen as they walk out of the office building. "Isn’t that what they say?"

"I suppose so," Karen lets her steps fall into sync with Nicole's. It is dark, and a soft rain is falling, causing the headlights of passing cars to reflect off the pavement. "I didn’t move to the city until a few years ago. It was a big awakening, let me tell you."

Nicole laughs softly. "I can well imagine."

"Hey," Karen says, her eyebrows drawing together. "Didn’t you say you went to university with Matt? They went to Columbia."

"Yeah," Nicole replies, drawing out the sound. "But I was only there for about six months before I moved back home again. I never got to know this part of New York at all. Anyway, it turned out NYC wasn’t for me."

"Bad breakup?"

Nicole laughed. "You have no idea."

"And where's home?"

"Greece, if you can believe it."

"Oh,” Karen says, wonderingly. Karen would have thought the woman had Asian ancestry, perhaps Chinese. Greek wouldn't have been her first guest.

Nicole laughs. "I know, I know. I get that look a lot. I was adopted." 

They round a corner. A man wearing a black hoodie steps in front of them and they stop short. Nicole’s arm crosses over the front of Karen’s body, blocking her from walking into the muzzle of the man's handgun. Karen’s heart jumps in her chest and begins beating at the rapid pace of a terrified rabbit. "Oh my god," she says, taking a step backward.

The man looks from Nicole to Karen. He curls his lip and he gestures with the gun. "Wallets and phones, now," he says, his voice brusque and flat.

"I don’t think so," Nicole says. Karen thinks about turning to Nicole to tell her to do what the man says, but before she can, Nicole pushes Karen out of the way and bursts into motion. Nicole's leg whips out to kick the gun from the man’s grasp, sending it clattering onto the ground. The man grabs for her, but Nicole lands a hard punch against his cheekbone. He reels backward, stumbling, and Nicole advances on him, kicking out with another hard blow to his sternum. He lands a punch on Nicole's jaw, and Karen gasps, putting a hand to her mouth as she stumbles backward.

"Bad move,” Nicole says, wiping the blood from her lip before aiming a powerful kick toward his crotch. He doubles over, and her fist connects with his skull with a solid thwacking sound. Seconds later, she has one arm around his neck and the blade of a dangerous looking knife at his throat.

"Get the gun, Karen," Nicole says, breathing hard. Karen hurries to retrieve the gun with trembling hands. "You know how to use that?"

Karen swallows, thinking of the gun sitting in her dresser, safe at home. "Yes."

"Good. Now," Nicole says, turning her head to speak into the man’s ear. "Because I’m feeling generous, you’re going to run. You're going to run as fast as you can, and you’re going to leave your weapon behind as a going away present. Understand?"

"Fuck you, bi-" the man’s words cut off suddenly, and Karen can see a rivulet of blood trickling down his throat where Nicole’s knife has cut him.

"Understand?"

"Yes," he gasps.

Nicole looks toward Karen. "Keep the gun ready," she says, holding Karen's eyes. Karen nods in response, and Nicole releases the man before darting away to stand at Karen’s side. The knife is poised and ready in Nicole’s hand, and Karen can sense her vibrating with tension.

"Now go," Nicole whispers, gesturing with the knife. "Run."

The would-be mugger looks from Nicole to Karen, weighing his odds. He eyes the gun in Karen’s grasp with longing, then turns tail and runs down an alleyway and out of sight. 

Karen waits until the sound of his boots against the pavement fades away, then releases a breath that she didn’t know she was holding. Her heart is beating a mile a minute, and she could really use that drink now to calm her nerves. "Oh my god," she says.

Nicole remains poised, her attention set in the direction the mugger disappeared, the knife firm in her grasp for a long moment before she relaxes. She turns to Karen with a huge grin on her face.

"Whoo! That was fun," Nicole exclaims. Karen's jaw drops as she watches Nicole pull a cloth from her pocket that she uses to clean the blood from the blade.

"Fun?" Karen exclaims. "Scary, yeah, but not fun. I was looking forward to a nice merlot, maybe some music, but definitely not being held up by gun point." Karen begins shaking. 

Nicole places a hand on Karen's arm. Karen flinches. "Are you okay?"

"I will be," Karen says, taking a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm her body. "It’s not the first time I’ve been held at gunpoint all year, so I guess I’ll live." She clears her throat, attempting to pull herself together. "What about you? He got your face."

Karen’s free hand flutters toward Nicole’s split lip, coming close not quite touching, before she brings her hand back to her side.

Nicole grins, her eyes flitting from Karen's hand, hanging at her side, to her eyes. "Lucky punch," she shrugs, apparently unconcerned.

"Still,” Karen says, tilting her head to get a better look at Nicole's injury in the street lights. "We should put some ice on it. I have some in the fridge back at the office. Maybe going out tonight isn't such a good idea, anyway."

Nicole takes a deep breath, and touches her fingers to her lip briefly, before pulling them away. They are marked with blood. "'Kay," Nicole says, newly compliant. She slips her arm through Karen's as they turn to head back the way they came. 

Karen looks at the gun in her hands, turning it over. "What do I do with this?"

"Keep it, throw it away. I guess it doesn’t really matter," Nicole says, her voice low and close.

Karen squints her eyes as she examines the gun. "The safety’s on."

Nicole snickers. "Idiot."

"Yeah," Karen says, widening her eyes as she shrugs. She puts the gun into her purse. Her gun collection seems to be growing, not through any choice of her own.

"Some neighborhood you work in," Nicole states looking around.

"I’ve been through worse," Karen says. She's been through worse, done worse, hell, she’d killed a man. Nicole, though, Nicole had looked as though she could have killed the mugger with her bare hands. She had been breathtaking when she was fighting the man, her movements elegant and dangerous. _Dangerous_. Karen shudders and turns to Nicole. "Where did you learn to fight like that?"

Nicole frowns. "Self-defense classes. My father insisted that I know how to defend myself should trouble find me. Sometimes it does."

"Seems like," Karen smiles, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Maybe I should take classes."

"You should,” Nicole nods decisively. "Considering where you work and live. A girl's got to know how to take care of herself."

Once back in the office, Karen fills a bag with ice, and wraps it in a towel. She watches as Nicole presses it to her lip. She looks up at Karen from where she sits, eyes wide, before her eyes start to drift, looking at the office. If Karen didn’t know better, she’d say Nicole was the picture of innocence.

"Thanks," Nicole says. When she removes the ice from her swollen lip, the towel comes away stained with her blood.

Karen attempts a small smile, but it feels disingenuous. She's tired. She had a long day at work, and since Nicole arrived her evening alternated between intriguing and stressful.

"Listen," Karen says. "I'm probably going to head home soon. Take a taxi or something, because there's no way I'm walking from here."

Nicole nods, and moves closer. "I'll get out of your hair then. Maybe we can meet up some other time?"

"Yeah," Karen breathes. "I'd like that."

"And you'll give Matthew my number?"

"Of course,” Karen nods, looking down at the desk, strewn with the Punisher files. She makes a show of straightening the papers there. "First thing in the morning."

"Good," Nicole breathes. "You can use it yourself, you know."

"Oh," Karen says. "I'd like that."

Karen looks up, and her heart jumps when she realizes that Nicole is much closer, well within her personal space. "Well," Karen says, brushing her hand against Karen's. "I was hoping to get to know you better, but I guess I'll just have to be happy with this." 

She leans in, and presses a kiss to Karen's lips. Karen's breath catches, and her heart starts beating quickly in her chest once more, this time out of pleasure rather than fear. Her mouth opens under the firm pressure of Nicole's lips, and Karen tastes the metallic tang of Nicole's blood lingering there. A thrill shoots down Karen's spine, hot and liquid, threatening to turn he knees to jelly.

Nicole's fingers tighten around Karen's, and then she withdraws, smiling as she looks up at Karen from under her lashes. 

"Oh,” Karen says, pressing her fingers to her lips. 

"I'll see you around, Karen,” Nicole says as she saunters toward the door. "Be safe."

Karen clears her throat and manages to say, "You too," before Nicole disappears behind the door.

Karen stands, leaning against the desk for long minutes with her fingers pressed to her lips. This was one of the most confusing evenings she's had in ages. That's saying something, considering the chaos that her life has become since working at Nelson and Murdock. 

She looks at her phone. Seeing the late hour, she orders herself an Uber. 

As she waits for the car on the office building’s front stoop, she shakes her head and looks out at the dark night for any trace of the woman who had visited her. The only sound is the patter of the rain and the cars on the wet pavement.

* * *

The next morning, Karen is at her desk with her coffee in hand, looking through the Punisher papers when Matt walks into the office.

"Morning, Matt," she says, attempting to convey brightness in her voice to make up for the smile he cannot see. The smile is genuine - over the past few months she has been developing feelings for Matt, which makes the attraction she'd felt for Nicole last night so much more confusing to her.

"Hey, Karen," he says, walking over to the desk. "How are you this morning?"

"Oh fine, almost got mugged last night, but other than that, peachy."

"Almost-” Matt stops, his eyebrows draw together. "What do you mean almost?"

The door opens, and Foggy walks in, putting his umbrella in the bin beside the door. "Almost what?" 

Matt turns to Foggy. "Karen almost got mugged last night."

"What?" Foggy rushes over to her. "Holy, shit, Karen, are you okay?" He looks at her, all big eyed concern.

"Yeah, but I was with a friend of yours from college, Matt. She dropped by to see you, and she fought them off."

"She fought them off." Matt repeats. He cocks his head to the side. "A friend of mine. Who was it?"

"A girl named Nicole,” Karen says, reaching for the post-it note with Nicole's number on it. She hands it to Foggy. "She left her number."

Matt's eyebrows draw together, and he turns toward Foggy. "I don't remember a Nicole from college. Do you?"

"Nope," Foggy says, shaking his head. "Not at all. You sure that's what she said her name was?"

"Yeah, I mean she was the one who wrote it down for me."

"Call it." Matt says, his voice short.

Foggy sighs, pulls out his cell phone and dials the number. They wait a few beats before the call is answered.

"Hi, can I speak with Nicole, please?" Foggy asks. He pauses, and rolls his eyes before speaking again. "Uh-huh. Okay, sorry to have bothered you. Thanks."

He ends the call and turns to Matt and Karen. "That was the Jolly Goat Coffee bar," he says. "Which, by the way, has the best latte in Manhattan. But no one named Nicole."

Karen frowns, and her stomach begins to churn. "What?"

"Bogus number, fake name-” Foggy turns to Matt, gesturing with wide arms.

"It wouldn't shock me if it was someone from Reyes' office trying to get some info," Matt replies.

"I wouldn't put it past them, those jerks. No sense of ethics at all."

As Matt and Foggy continue to hash out the identity of her mystery guest, Karen flops down in her chair, feeling betrayed and embarrassed for letting a stranger get close. She didn't know anything about Nicole, or whatever her name was, but she had been completely disarmed by her. Karen had liked Nicole, and if Nicole had asked, she would have agreed to see her again.

This is doing nothing for her trust issues.

Karen sniffs, and gathers the Punisher papers around her again, putting her mind to her work.

* * *

Weeks later, during the Punisher trial, she comes face to face with Nicole once more. 

Matt freezes when he sees her in the doorway to his bedroom.

"Karen. Hi," He says. His voice is tense. This is not a surprise. Their new, still fragile relationship has been under strain lately due to his disappearances and absences from the trial. Adding to the unease is the strange man who had answered the door. He was blind, like Matt, but with none of Matt’s friendly charm. Finally, the woman Matt said he never met, who Karen had kissed that one time, is lying in Matt's bed. It is exceedingly weird. 

"Um, let's uh. Let's go somewhere," he says, attempting to usher her out of the room.

Karen can't look at him, not when he left Foggy to twist in the wind at the trial. Neither can she look at Nicole, or whatever her name is. She had obviously lied to Karen about her name to hide her identity, but yet, she knew Matt after all. Karen doesn't know whether to jealous of Matt, of the woman in his bed, or both. What the fuck was going on?

She steps back, and says, "No, why?"

"So we can talk."

"I don't want to," her voice trembling.

"I know this looks crazy but it's really not-” 

"It doesn't, it doesn't matter," she takes a deep breath, steeling herself. He’s right, this situation does look crazy, and Karen wants nothing to do with it. "Frank Castle's going to take the stand tomorrow. And your friend could use your help. That's all."

She leaves the apartment. As soon as she's a block away, she stops, leans against a wall, and presses the heels of her hands to her eyes, willing herself not to weep.


End file.
